Panzer Commander Part 8

Over the weeks, equipped now with a proper cane instead of the broom handle, I visited all my old friends. To my astonishment the spa orchestra still played every day in the park. A peaceful world, if it were not for the daily bulletins from the eastern front and the reports of air raids on our cities. I was determined to make the most of my enforced leisure and suppress the unpleasant things, as all frontline soldiers do whenever they have the chance.

North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox 105 In the meantime news came over the radio that Rommel had penetrated far into Egypt and had come to a halt near El Alamein, about 100 kilometers west of Alexandria. From telephone conversations with our Replacement Section near Berlin and from what was said by men who had come back from Africa, I learned that shortage of supplies through logistical failure was the main cause. I could well imagine how angry Rommel would have been at so little understanding at the Fuehrer's HQ and so little support from the Italians.

During my time in Kissingen I often went to my old barracks, where I met many wounded men from my old Reconnaissance Battalion 37, which had been in action on the eastern front. A number of my people had fallen and left behind family and friends in Kissingen. The battles in the winter of 1941-42 and the rearguard actions had left the men washed out. No one believed anymore in a quick finish. I was naturally envied for my posting to North Africa. Many ordinary soldiers asked me to give their regards to Rommel.

Even the mayor and most of the functionaries, who were all members of Hitler's Party, now saw things in a more sober light and wondered whether our march into Russia had not been a mistake. The propaganda tirades that Goebbels delivered regularly over the radio were insufferable. The talk was always of "subhumans," the "Lebensraum" ("living s.p.a.ce") that was vital for Germany, and of "faith in our beloved Fuehrer." No one dared to express his doubts openly; the network of informers was too large and too dangerous.

At the beginning of September 1942 I was p.r.o.nounced "fit for limited combat duty." I went to my mother's for a week and then to the replacement section near Berlin, There I met a number of officers and NCOS who had been severely wounded and were now employed as instructors for the replacements. I even found my faithful Mercedes standing in the garage, repaired and spick-andspan. I used it a few times to go to Berlin to visit friends.

Berlin was suffering most from the air raids and from the stringency of the food situation. The faces of the Berliners, who were once so cheerful and quick-witted, had grown gray.

With their sense of reality they had no illusions.

There was nothing more to keep me in Germany. I wanted to rejoin my unit. At the Personnel Office I finally received my movement orders in the middle of September. I was to report to the German liaison office in Rome and then fly to Tobruk via Sicily.

Over the Alps to Rome I duly went, and from there straight on to Sicily. This time I flew in a vast Blohm and Voss flying boat, which was used for transporting materiel. Again we flew low over the water; the British air bases on the island of Malta were not far away. It was fascinating to lift off from the sea and land on the water, leaving a huge cloud of spray behind us.

From the air I saw the town of Tobruk and its harbor, which had been hotly contested and badly damaged. Then we were down, alighting by a sunken British freighter.

Moments later I was standing on the dock, breathing in the hot desert air that was so familiar to me. Now in September it was even hotter by day than in the weeks when I was wounded. A car took me with my aluminum trunk to Rommel's HQ, which lay somewhere in the desert near Mersa Matrui.

"We've had some hard but successful battles, Major," the driver told me. "Now there's a lull on the Alamein front. Who will be the first to start things up again?" I had no idea where my battalion lay; without doubt deep in the desert.

And then I was with Rommel. I reported my return fit for duty and congratulated him above all on his being made a field marshal and on his successful actions.

"I'm glad you're here again," Rommel told me. "Captain Everth has stood in for you very well and achieved great distinction with the battalion. For that I was able to present him with the Knight's Cross. Unfortunately he too has caught one of these insidious tropical diseases. He's only waiting for your return to be posted back home. It's essential for me to have treatment too. You've come just in time to say good-bye to me. I'll be back as soon as I can. Best of luck and have yourself briefed by Gause (chief of staff)." I took my leave and went to General Gause for briefing.

"It's good that you're here, Luck. We were beginning to think you might not be able to come back." Gause too looked tired and emaciated. It had been particularly hard for him to make the right decisions when Rommel was "leading from the front" and out of reach, often for days on end. He put me briefly in the picture, especially about the thrust into Egypt, which for lack of fuel and supplies had come to a halt at Alameinonly 100 kilometers from Alexandria. He told me of Rommel's deep disappointment over the slack conduct of the war by the High North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox 107 Command of the Wehrmacht, meaning Hitler, and over the halfhearted efforts of the Italians to ensure adequate supplies.

"The Field Marshal struck me just now as disappointed and depressed," I intedected. "Is that to do with his health or also with what was probably the last, unsuccessful attack on Cairo at the end of August? I wasn't able to hear much about that in Germany.,, "With both," replied"Gause. "His state of health really is a cause for concern. Rommel needs rest and quiet. But you know what he's like. He won't leave his theater of war, especially not in the decisive phase that's coming. Then, to add to it, came the profound disappointment over the offensive at the end of August." (Our rank and file, with their gallows humor, called it the "six-day race," after the popular six-day bicycle race in the Berlin stadium.) "We knew that Monty (General Bernard Montgomery) was preparing a decisive offensive," Gause continued, "but wouldn't start it until he had received all the materiel he needed for complete success. Rommel hoped to forestall him with an offensive of his own and be able to turn the tables on him yet again. The last chance was at the end of August, at-full moon. Marshal Cavallero had promised him that several tankers would arrive before then, and Kesselring had promised 500 tons of fuel a day by airlift.

"On 31 August, the fuel was still not there; now Rommel had to start. Severe sandstorms prevented the superior RAF from being used (our own Messerschmidt fighters stood on the airfields with no fuel). On 2 September, a mere 900 tons of fuel arrived out of the 5,000 announced; 2,600 tons had been sunk, 1,500 were still in Italy.

"Next morning the storm had subsided. Now-almost in flyover forrnationhe RAF launched wave after wave against the Afrika Korps, which was thrusting north behind the Alamein position. A British division, which up to then had not been spotted, had occupied a range of hills with a front to the south. The two, together, brought the attack to a standstill.

"Because of the missing supplies and the almost 100 percent air superiority, the attack came to nothing. The reconnaissance group, which included your own battalion, had n sent east at the very beginning, in order to march at once on Cairo, about 100 kilometers further east, as soon as the Afrika Korps had reached the coast behind the British. The group was. .h.i.t particularly badly by the air attacks and suffered heavy losses.

"In the night of 2 to 3 September, Rommel decided with a heavy heart, to break off the attack and withdraw from the rear of the British position. On this retreat, Brigadier Clifton of the New Zealand Division was taken prisoner and brought to Rommel. His fate was remarkable.

"Whenever possible," Gause went on, "Rommel likes to talk to prominent opponents. so, too, with Clifton, to whom he first expressed his admiration for the fight his division had put up.

He did complain, however, about the atrocities that had been carried out on German prisoners. "That's the Maoris," Clifton replied, 'original inhabitants of New Zealand, who fight as ferociously as the Sikhs from India. I deplore it." Clifton had fought against us in 1940 in France and said now that they were sure of victory in the end. Inwardly, Rommel, too, was already convinced of this. Shortly after, Clifton escaped through a lavatory and was picked up alone in the desert with only a water-bottle in his hand. Rommel couldn't meet his request to be sent into German captivity and not to the Italians. Rommel regretted that all prisoners in North Africa, at Mussolini's wish, had to be handed over to the Italians." It became known later that Clifton, after making eight vain attempts to escape, managed to get to Switzerland on the ninthdespite being wounded.) "During his conversation with Clifton, Rommel mentioned that the Allies, too, would have to get used to the idea that the danger in the future would come from the east, from Russia.

"So, Luck, now you know why Rommel is so disappointed." Weeks after Rommel's unsuccessful offensive, the rumor was still going around that an Italian general had betrayed Rommel's plan to the British. Admittedly, this had never been confirmed, but in 1985 Steve Ambrose introduced me to Mrs. Jean Howard at a lunch with General Sir Nigel Poett of the British 6th Airborne Division at the Army-Navy Club in London. Jean greeted me with enthusiasm.

"Hans von Luck, what a pleasure to meet you personally. I know all about you and your activities in North Africa. I was one of the team at Bletchley Park [then under the name of Jean Allington, Hut 3 BP] that managed to break the German code, in what we called the Ultra operation. We intercepted all radio messages on the German side, so that our command in London, and in Africa, had fairly complete information about German plans.

I knew you from 1942, when you first arrived in North Africa.

I'm pleased to meet the Major of those days personally." North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox 109 Only then did I realize why the British had always been so well informed about our actions and how convoys with supplies, or the activity of our Luftwaffe, could have been disrupted so accurately. Ultra was a G.o.dsend to the British, a catastrophe for us.) "Rommel intends to see Hitler in Germany," Gause then went on, "and make it clear to him, quite bluntly, that without adequate supplies, the war in North Africa cannot be won.

"In addition, we know from our sources that Churchill was in Cairo at the beginning of August and that on the twelfth, Montgomery took over command of the Eighth Army. A new wind seems to be blowing among our opponents. They will, undoubtedly, be working on an offensive, which this time could be decisive.

"For the moment, however, the British have consolidated their Alamein position firmly with over 800,000 mines, and with replenished divisions and strong tank divisions behind them.

"Now for you: your battalion has once again hit the jackpot.

It's lying in the Siwa Oasis, about 300 kilometers south of Mersa Matruh in the Qattara Depression. I was down there yesterday with Rommel and General Fritz Bayerlein. Truly a paradise, which is quite out of keeping with our battlefield here in the desert. But we must maintain a presence down there.

The danger of being outflanked to the south of the Alamein position is too great.

"I don't begrudge you this pleasant a.s.signment, after the tough actions and heavy losses of the past months.

"You will have to fly there in a JU 87 (a dive bomber). The runway is too short for other machines and the distance too great for the Fieseler Stork." (The Stuka crews vied with each other for these flights.) "You will come directly under me, so for the time being, you are detached from the units of the 21st Panzer Division. Captain Everth will brief you in detail before he has to go home, unfortunately also on health grounds.

"I wish you all the best. Enjoy your time down there, before the balloon goes up again." With that, I was dismissed and taken at once to the airfield of the JU 87. The most interesting part of my time in Africa was about to begin.

I was taken to Captain Hamester, a squadron leader.

"I have the good fortune to be permitted to fly you to Siwa. We use these flights to try out our missions deep into the desert and to drop bombs or ward off British fighters, if we happen to 110 PANZER COMMANDER across British units. That's why we go in a flight of three machines. I'm sure you've heard of our nosedives and our demoralizing sirens. As a landlubber you should find it interesting."

"I've heard from my friends," I replied, "who flew Rommel to Siwa only yesterday, how lovely this oasis is and that for them, the highlight was to swim in Cleopatra's Bath."

"We'll be flying down tomorrow morning," Hamester went on.

"You'll have to fly as rear gunner. We only have a two-man crew. You'll know the 2cm cannon, of course, from your scout cars." On 23 September 1942, Rommel flew to Germany to undergo treatment and to meet Hitler. On the same day, I boarded Captain Hamester's JU 87. I squeezed myself into the rear seat, with my tropical chest stowed vertically between the pilot and me. I donned headphones and microphone.

The flight lasted about an hour. We flew at a height of about 3,000 feet. The stony desert, with its little outcrops of rock and camel's thorn bushes, lay peacefully below us. If I turned round, I could see the sandy desert with its high dunes lying in the distance like a vast trough of the sea. Even camel paths were discernible and the tracks of our reconnaissance vehicles winding through the desert. Or were they the tracks of the Royal Dragoons or the Long Range Desert Group?

There, ahead, was the sharp drop to the Qattara Depression. In front, to the left, I could see the oasis, with only a single winding track leading down to it. ("That would be easy to block," pa.s.sed through my mind.) We landed and were directed to a group of palms, where the three machines found cover.

"Welcome to paradise!" I was greeted by Captain Everth, newly decorated with the Knight's Cross. "We're glad to see you back again, fully restored. One of those stupid tropical diseases has got me too, so I've got to go back to Germany sooner or later." My battalion was quartered in tents, well dispersed under palms.

"We've deliberately kept ourselves somewhat apart from the Arabs, to avoid disturbing the daily life of these proud sons of the desert," Everth told me. "May I suggest that we first do a tour of the oasis? In the course of it, I can tell you something about this lovely little spot and about our own task." I agreed at once.

I felt as though I were in a fairy tale from the Thousand and One Nights.- blue skies above me, hot sun, and endless groves of palms with ripening dates. Little water courses ran through the oasis. In North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox ill the south, right by the last palms, the huge white dunes heaved up like a sea of waves. In the north, the 150-foot high escarpment, which dropped vertically. In the east, the Qattara Depression, a dried-up salt lake, which stretched 300 kilometers to the east, to a point about 100 kilometers southeast of Alamein.

"The Qattara Depression is impa.s.sable," explained Everth. "Only in the dry season is there a little track which can be used by light vehicles. We have to watch out there, in case Tommy tries to surprise us with his Long Range Desert Group. We are lying about 300 kilometers south of Mersa Matruh. Only 50 to 70 kilometers of the Alamein line are manned. In between, is No Man's Land, hence, an open field of operations for both sides." I had already heard of Siwa at school, of its palace and Cleopatra's Bath (51 to 30 B.C.). In former times, an "Oracle" was said to be in Siwa, and visited, besides others, by Alexander the Great. Siwa, originally called Ammonion, came under Egyptian rule in 1820. This was now represented by three officials: the doctor, the commissioner, and the postmaster.

The inhabitants, numbering about 5,000, were originally Bedouins who became settled there, and since that time, have no longer mixed with other tribes. Despite inbreeding, they are healthy.

Because of this, the Senussi, on their flight from the Italians out of Libya, were allowed to stay in Siwa only for a short while and then had to move on further east. Every extended family had a sheik at its head, the greatest family, a chief sheik, a primus inter pares.

While the Egyptian doctor had his raison d'etre, the commissioner was less popular, as he was responsible for tax collecting. The postmaster was completely useless, for no one there could read or write. So he found himself a lucrative sideline, as a trader. He had his moment of glory when Rommel visited Siwa a few days earlier and the sheiks presented him with an envelope bearing a set of Siwa stamps, duly cancelled, a philatelic rarity.

We came to Cleopatra's Bath, in which the crews of the Stukas were amusing themselves. I found myself before a well with a diameter of about 30 feet. The water was so clear tfiat one could see the bottom some 20 feet below. There, several carbonated springs bubbled forth. The water had a constant temperature of 18* C and promised to be wonderfully refres.h.i.+ng.

Everth invited me to come with him that evening: "We had to draw up a timetable so that all the men could enjoy this treat." Not far away stood Cloopatra's former palace, where she is supposed to have spent some time every year in relaxation. One could still see the remains of the great blocks of stone; how they got there no one knows. The water from Cleopatra's well, and from some smaller wells in the neighborhood, was led by an ingenious system into the gardens of the sheiks, which were thus kept watered throughout the year.

"Now we'll go into the 'town' as we call it. I must first introduce you, by Arab custom, to the chief sheik, who will bid you welcome as a guest," Everth explained.

On arriving in the "town," we went through a gate in the high wall of the garden of the chief sheik. The sight took my breath away. Here the greenery and the flowers made one forget one was in the desert. Innumerable little ducts ran through the luxuriant garden. Gorgeous vines and bougainvillacas climbed up the mud walls. Between exotic plants were little beds a yard square, led Chinese beds, in which corn and vegetables were planted, to produce tenfold yields. In between stood citms, pomegranate, and olive trees. And towering over all, were the date palms.

At the end of the garden stood the low, whitewashed house of the chief sheik, who greeted us with a deep bow. We returned his salaam" and asked to be received by him. He led us into the inner courtyard, which was spread with valuable carpets. By Arab custorn, no women were to be seen. We squatted, cross-legged, on the carpets, which very soon gave me cramps in the calves, as I was not used to this way of sitting. The sons offered us cooled fruit juices, for alcohol was strictly forbidden. Besides, we were still in Ramadan, the month of fasting, in which nothing was eaten during the day.

"Welcome to you, Germans," the chief sheik greeted us. "Having had the great honor, a few days ago, of a visit from your famous Marshal Rommel, I now bid you welcome, Major, as the new commander of our oasis. You know that we admire you Germans and wish you success in this war. I have asked Rommel to greet the great sheik, Bismarck, highly honored by us (thank goodness he didn't mention Hitler). Unfortunately, the war cuts us off from Cairo and Alexandria. We can't sell our produce or, buy necessities, so that tea, our main drink, has gradually run out." The chief sheik was an imposing figure, tall, with a dark face and fine-cut features. A white beard gave him a dignified appearance. His burnoose was of the finest white material.

North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox 113 "When we celebrate the end of Ramadan in a few weeks' time," he said, dismissing us, "you must be our guest." We drove to the airfield to say good-bye to the Stuka crews, who disappeared to the north in a great arc and with a waggle of wings, to return again to their hard service on the Alamein front.

Everth and I went back to the command post, to the cleverly outfitted Opel Blitz, which was comparable to a modern motor caravan. Everth then gave me a detailed account of the battalion's tasks and equipment.

"Supplies for the battalion seldom come by land, since, for that, convoys have to be a.s.sembled to guard against British patrols or raiding parties. Supplies of things like food, fuel, and ammunition, are usually dropped by Stukas or Heinkels, which at the same time make use of these flights for reconnaissance.

Since we can buy cereals here in the oasis, Rommel has given us a bakery platoon, which bakes our bread and also fresh rolls sometimes on Sundays.

"A few days ago, we were sent an Italian Ghibli, comparable to our Fieseler Stork, with a- nice pilot and the necessary spare parts. This aircraft saves us costly patrolling trips either to the north, out of the Qattara Depression, or in the direction of the Giarabub oasis in Libya, the only tracks leading out of the oasis." I now had a rough idea of what was to be done and resolved to make the most of what would probably be our short time in Siwa.

Next morning, my dip in Cleopatra's Bath was wonderful; and on a trip through the oasis, Everth told me more of its special features.

"A few decades ago, King Faid decided to make the unique beauty of the oasis accessible to tourists and to organize appropriate safaris. At that time, Siwa was so infested by millions of mosquitoes of a dangerous variety, that no one could visit the oasis without at once coming down with malaria. By order of King Faid, scientists developed an insecticide, which was put in the water channels and so prevented them from breeding. Within a few years, the mosquitoes were eradicated." Meanwhile, the day was drawing to a close and we were being offered a natural spectacle: the setting sun coldred the steep slope of the Qattara Depression blood-red and plunged the whole oasis into a blue-green light. The sight was overwhelming.

Next day, I made my first round-flight in the Ghibli. I then realized the extent of the oasis, saw the vast, untouched dunes beneath me, in the north, the escarpment, and in the east, the marked track through the dried-up salt lake, which was no longer frequented by the camel caravans.

In the course of the next two weeks-we had, as usual, no contact with the enemyme of our ned officers left us: Captain Everth flew to Germany, sick, and would not be coming back; von Fallois, my predecessor's adjutant, was replaced. Captain Kiehl had already been leading Rommel's "battle group" successfully for some time.

Except for a few of the old hands, who remained to the end, there were new company commanders, platoon leaders, and orderly officers. Among them was Lieutenant Ruediger von Wechmar, my predemsor's son, today the German amba.s.sador in London. Captain Meyer became a new company commander; until 1983, he was the German amba.s.sador in Luxembourg. Lieutenant von Mutius was new.

Later he was to bring off an adventurous escape from Tunisia.

He is living today in Brazil. As reserve officer, we received Lieutenant Wenzel Luedecke, who was cheerful and always ready for some fun; up to then, he had been an a.s.sistant director with UFA film producers, and today, he is the proprietor of an audio,synchronizing firm in Berlin. I would have much to thank him for later.

Left to me of the old stock, were Captain Bangemann and-as my ever calm and reliable adjutant-First-Lieutenant Bernhardt. We managed this drastic change in the corps of officers without difficulty, thanks to the marvellous team spirit and tolerance characteristic of this unusual battalion and all its men.

After about a week, General Stumme announced that be would be visiting us. He, too, wished to "satisfy" himself about our mission, but no doubt wished also to see something of the paradise of Siwa. Accompanied by my corps of officers I greeted Stumme on the runway. While the aircrews were taken to Cleopatra's Bath, we went through the usual program for visitors: trip around the oasis to the Queen's Bath and former palace, followed by a call on the chief sheik and the postmaster.

We began to feel like tour guides-and this in a theater of war where the final decision was imminent. But that is the way of war. In between tough engagements and murderous battles, there is time for relaxation, for regeneration. And all this in the knowledge that it could be one's last day.

During the discussion of the situation that followed, Stumme left us in no doubt that the decisive battle was imminent.

"According to North Africa, 1942: Rommel, the Desert Fox 115 our information, the British are receiving large quant.i.ties of war materiel, which is being landed at Suez and then brought up to the front at once. Montgomery is behaving like all British commanders: if by means of materiel men can be spared, then that is what is done.

"We, unfortunately, are not in that happy position. The supplies. that are reaching us don't cover, by a long way, the minimum we need. My greatest worry is the almost complete air superiority of the British, which in the desert, without cover, represents a mortal danger. We have far too few fighters, and those few are for the most part still grounded without fuel.

"I have just asked Rommel, once again, to bring all his influence to bear on Hitler and Goering to see that we are provided, as quickly as possible, with fuel, more tanks, 88mm guns, and fighter aircraft.

"Your task in the coming British offensive," Stumme concluded, "will be to guard our open southern flank and prevent any attempt to circ.u.mvent us."

The Retreat from El Alamein All was still quiet at the front-it was now October 1942-and especially in our oasis. The daily flights of the Ghibli revealed nothing out of the ordinary in our sector.

Our days in the singularly beautiful oasis of Siwa were undoubtedly numbered. The reports of British preparations for an offensive were acc.u.mulating. I worked out a plan to enable the rear sections, including the bakery platoon, to march in the direction of the coast without being threatened by the British advance.

In addition, I discussed with the company commanders the two possible ways in which we might go into action: either via the winding road to the north, or to the west via the Giarabub oasis, veering north from there. I was well stocked with fuel and ammunition. All the water canisters were filled. We had to figure that, after the corning offensive, the confusion would be so great that in the early days the delivery of supplies in the depths of the desert was not something we could count on.

In the middle of October, according to our information, the British had 1,000 tanks at their disposal, including 4M of the new, superior, American-made Shermans, against which we could put up just 200. Opposing the 195,000 British, including their allies, who were all fully motorized, we had on our side 24,000 men. In the middle of October, we received only 44 percent of the minimum supplies for the next eleven days. Our tanks were furnished with fuel for a mere 300 kilometers. In addition, the air superiority of our opponents was complete. Our few fighters, which likewise suffered from lack of fuel, could not compete.

On 23 October, the expected inferno broke forth with 1,000 guns and sustained attacks by the RAF. Montgomery opened concentrated fire on our positions and, in doing so, blasted a hole in our mine fields.

My battalion was put on the alert.

"Counterattack by 15th Panzer Division planned for tomorrow," Gause informed us. "You will hold yourself ready for counterattack or to protect southern flank." The orders came in a radio message from Gause (which was intercepted by Ultra at The Retreat from El Alamein 117 Park. This was told to me in 1985 by Jean Howard.) The fact that all our actions were known at once to the British, represented for us a further catastrophe.

Next day, we received more alarming news: General Stumme, on a visit to the front, had come under a sudden concentration of fire and died, presumably of a heart attack. Rommel had broken off his treatment at once and returned to Derna-still not well-on 25 October. That put fresh heart into our people.

Our counterattack was ineffective, Under the hail of bombs and the rockets used for the first time by the British fighters, and in face also of a defensive line of tanks, it broke down. But the Afrika Korps and the Italian divisions offered fierce resistance to the British offensive. Up to 29 October, Monty Was unable to force a breakthrough, although our positions were exposed ceaselessly to the attacks of the RAF and heavy artillery fire. The bombers and fighters came in flyover formation, as though it were peacetime, even by night, when the whole battlefield was lit by flares.

Monty regrouped. During the night of I to 2 November 1942, a second offensive began. With 400 tanks and strong artillery and air support, he launched an attack on a narrow sector of the northern front against an unfortunate, inferior Italian division and forced a breakthrough. The division was wiped out after the majority of the Italians had been wounded or killed.

Rommel pulled out the 21st Panzer Division, which had been stationed in the south, and threw it against the point of breakthrough. At the same time, I received orders to fill the gap and support the XX Italian Corps, which was left on its own.

That same day, 2 November, in accordance with our prearranged plan, I ordered the supply sections, including the bakery platoon, to go to our supply center in Cyrenaica. To maintain vital contact for our supplies, I gave them a radio armored car.

Before dawn-on 3 November-we left the Siwa oasis. We arrived in the area of the XX Italian Corps, which, for the moment, had not yet come under strong attack, except from the RAF.

I was able, thank goodness, to keep in constant touch with Rommel's HQ. I was informed that Rommel would shortly be giving the order to retreat, since our front, which had been broken through at several points, could no longer hold out against the superior enemy and the constant air attacks. By giving up Cyrenaica, Rommel planned to reach Tripolitania and set up a line of defense there. In so doing, it seemed to him important to bring to safety, over a 118 PANZER COMMANDER distance of nearly 2,000 kilometers, as many units as possible, especially the battered, nonmotorized Italian infantry divisions. In the midst of these considerations, a briefly worded order from I I the Fuehrer reached Rommel at midday to the effect that there was no other choice for our soldiers but victory or death. With that, any retreat was forbidden by the highest authority. As he told me a few weeks after the event, Rommel wavered between doing his duty of absolute obedience to the oath he had taken, and the reality at the front, with the threatening destruction that implied of the whole Africa Army. That same afternoon of 3 November, he decided to pa.s.s on to his commanders the Fuehrer's order to hold fast; the men, however, were not to be informed.

Rommel was sorely frustrated, but for thepresent, he obeyed. On the morning of 4 November, after ;trong artillery preparation, the British launched an attack against the Afrika Korps. By using 200 tanks, including many of the superior Shermans, and against bitter resistance from the 20 tanks left to us, deep breaches were made. But the Afrika Korps still held out and inflicted considerable losses on the enemy, mainly with our 88s.

While the enemy could replace his losses immediately, we lacked any replacements of tanks, heavy weapons, and ammunition. Then, however, toward ten o'clock, after renewed heavy artillery fire and relays of attack by the RAF, the British moved against the I front of the XX Italian Corps, which, with its poorly equipped defensive weapons, stood no chance of stopping the attack. I tried to give the Italians as much help as possible, but with my armored reconnaissance vehicles and their equally weak ant.i.tank guns, any help I could offer was more moral than effective. It was heart-rending to have to witness how the Ariete Division our most loyal allies) and the remains of the Trieste and Littorio Divisions, fought with death-defying courage; how their tanks (the..sardine tins" so often mocked by us) were shot up and left burning on the battlefield. Although I was engaged in actions myself, I kept in contact with the XX Italian Corps until it was almost surrounded. At about 1530 hours, the commander of the Ariete Division sent his last radio message to Rommel: "We are encircled, the Ariete tanks still in action." By evening, the XX Italian Corps had beeii destroyed. We lost good, brave friends, from whom we demanded more than they were in a position to give. The British now stormed through a breach 20 kilometers wide The Retreat from El Alamein 119 and threatened a southern outflanking of the Afrika Korps, which was fighting desperately in the north. At that, Rommel decided to begin an immediate retreat and thus ignore Hitler's order. Of the 750 or so tanks, which the Africa Army had at its disposal before the British offensive, only 12 were still available to us.

I received orders to disengage from the enemy and transfer, in the first place, to the area between Siwa and the Giarabub oasis, which was already in Libyan territory west of Siwa. My task was to reconnoiter in every direction and report, or prevent, any outflanking attempt south of the movement of retreat.

In the morning of 5 November, I reached an area north of the Siwa and Giarabub oases without coming into contact with the enemy. Our patrols were positioned in a wide fan, with observation to the east, the southeast, and the south.

Sandstorms and heavy downpours of rain set in, making many tracks almost impa.s.sable for the elements of the Africa Army that were now falling back.

Next day, we had our first contact with the enemy, with British patrols that had been sent out, it seemed, to explore the possibility of a southern outflanking; but they proved easy to repulse.

On 7 November, in the depths of the desert, a patrol putting out a long feeler to the east, discovered General Ramcke, the commander of the paratroop division, which had been in action on the right wing south of Alamein. General Ramcke was brought to us in a scout car. He looked emaciated and asked to be taken, at once, to Rommel. His paratroops-an elite unit-had been through an adventurous time.

I at once sent a radio message to Rommel: "General Ramcke, with 700 men and all weapons, has been discovered by us; he himself is with me at the command post." Rommel replied that he had been very worried about the paratroops and had almost given them up. I was to have the General taken to him at once and to convey his men to him with available vehicles.

I shall never forget the sight of Ramcke's men coming toward us, exhausted, out of the desert. For reason of s.p.a.ce, they had left everything behind except for weapons and water, but their morale was astonis.h.i.+ng.

In the morning of 8 November, Rommel appeared at my command postast of the Egyptian-Libyan border-and gave me a review of the general situation. The Africa Army had been in full retreat toward the Libyan border since 4 November. We were resisting the vigorous British advance with our last resources. The fuel that had been landed in Benghazi had come too late or not even reached the German panzer divisions; as a result, some of the last tanks had had to be blown up. At that moment, only four tanks were ready for action; the burden of defense was falling, therefore, mainly on the 88s.

Rommel spoke of the terrible scenes that were taking place on the coastal road. Pursued by British tanks and covered inescapably by carpets of bombs, vehicles were left standing in flames, while the men tried to save themselves on foot. Owing to these insurmountable obstacles, the supply trucks were hardly able to make progress.

Rommel's intention was to hold open the border pa.s.ses into Libya and channel through them-Airected by pickets of officersthe greater part of the Africa Army.